Just Like Betty Grable
by Bella Duveen79
Summary: Just how did Pike meet Violet Gibbons, and why did she say yes?
1. Chapter 1

**Just Like Betty Grable**

Of course there was a War on, but in many ways, life for Violet Gibbons was much better these days. She had a job she could feel a real pride in for the first time, working in a proper office in a typing pool responsible to the CO of the Royal West Kent Regiment, the food wasn't bad, and most importantly, no-one that she worked with had grown up around here.

She'd been rather concerned about that, when she'd been posted back home straight out of training, and hadn't wanted to go, but life in the Barracks had turned out far more fun than she'd expected, especially when there were dances and the like. Violet let her gaze wander round the canteen then, letting the chatter wash over her. Dora and Beryl had left already, needing to get back on shift, but she was in no rush.

It was nice to have those two. It hadn't been so easy, growing up, Violet considered, absently trailing her fork through her mashed potato and boiled cabbage…

 _Walmington on Sea, 1929_

' _And your Mum cleans other people's toilets for a living!' screeched Betty Parker, sure she'd dealt her killing blow, but afraid to hang around to find out. She turned and ran to the other side of the playground, her stupid gaggle of friends racing behind, giggling raucously._

 _Nine year old Violet was a rather big girl for her age, with her blonde hair tied back in a thick plait, and although she was well able to look after herself, on this occasion, Betty's words particularly stung. It wasn't her fault Mum had to go out to work – just because Betty's Mum could stay home all day, didn't mean everyone else could, especially after Dad…She stopped there. Thinking about him would only make her more upset, and she missed him every day. Mum had to work; after he got ill and didn't get any better…it wasn't fair._

 _She was determined not to cry, but sometimes it was just so hard not to, and ran off blindly in the other direction, not knowing or caring who saw, and collided heavily with a boy rushing towards her._

' _Ow!' The smaller boy glared at her. 'That really hurt…' He seemed poised to say more, but perhaps realised then that this was one of the bigger ones, and that maybe he shouldn't._

' _Should look where you're going then!' Violet retorted, dazed and still upset herself._

' _No, you were in the road,' he countered, looking sulky._

' _No, I wasn't!'_

' _You were! I'm chasing these jewel thieves, and you're in the way! I'm a Dectective!' he added proudly._

' _What?' Violet stared at the dark haired boy, her own concerns momentarily forgotten._

' _I'm playing Dectectives, only no-one else wanted to, and they're playing Bulldog but my Mum said I'm not allowed to 'cause of my ankles,' he explained, pointing to a horde of mainly boys racing from one side of the playground to the other, crashing into each other deliberately on the way._

' _Oh.' Violet didn't understand what was wrong with his ankles, but it wasn't nice being left out of a game. She knew that all too well._

' _Do you want to play Detectives?' he asked then, a spark lighting his eyes. 'You could be my assistant!'_

 _On another day, Violet would have treated a boy, particularly a younger boy, with the appropriate disdain, but today was different. She felt lonely and he was being nice._

' _OK,' she replied. 'But I'm not being an assistant! I'm older than you!'_

' _Well, all right. How about being the jewel thief's girlfriend?'_

 _In spite of herself, Violet laughed. 'OK! But what's your name?'_

' _Frank, really. But I'm not now. I'm Detective Molaro, and we're in Chicago! What's yours? Your real name, not in the game.'_

' _Violet. But I like Isabella – can that be my name? In the game?'_

Violet came back to the present and smiled. She wondered where that boy was now – could be anywhere, really. _Probably in the Army himself by now_. She hoped he was safe, and that Betty Parker wasn't. Her thoughts turned then to the latest dance, held at a local village hall a few weeks back. There were some nice boys there, but not really what she'd hoped for…a boy who'd worked down the mines before he joined up…he was nice looking, but it wasn't much of a future, was it? After the War – if they won – and even if they didn't – maybe especially if they didn't – a woman needed a man with prospects, Violet thought. She didn't want to go back to the Fish Shop, or Woolworths, and certainly didn't want to clean other people's houses like her mother.

 _There must be someone like that here_ , she thought, gazing around the room hopefully. She was just about to give up, when a puzzled frown crossed her face. _What were all those old men doing here?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

'Wilson?' Mainwaring asked as they took their places in the queue. 'Where's Walker?'

'Oh, he's still having a little chat down at Stores,' Wilson explained. 'Something about being able to 'see them right,' he said.'

Mainwaring raised his eyebrows. He had a pretty good idea what Walker was up to.

'Tell him I'd like a word with him before we leave,' he replied, reaching for some cutlery. 'Can't have my men involved in that sort of thing.'

'And how is Mrs Mainwaring?' Wilson asked then. 'Did that little drop of whiskey settle her nerves?'

Mainwaring sighed, annoyance mixed with exasperation. 'No, not really.' Nothing, it seemed, helped that, and it looked like they were doomed to sleep in that poky little air raid shelter until the end of the war – not that she was ever keen in sleeping in their room before the war, either.

The men made their way slowly down the line, with Jones enthusing about the planned field exercise that afternoon.

'Now back in France in the last war, we was digging those trenches morning, noon and night, and then we'd clamber up, up to the parapet, and we'd throw those shells over, ready with the old upward thrust for any as got near enough, you see…oh, I'm looking forward to getting in those trenches they've got here again, takes me right back…'

'It's no trenches!' interrupted Frazer, behind him. 'It's shell scrapes! Hidin' under cover, and sniper fire! D'ye no think we learnt anything from that war?'

'Well, what do you know about it?' Jones was somewhat put out at having his understanding and memories called into question. 'You wasn't in France!'

'Jones, Frazer!' Mainwaring turned round sharply. 'You're making an exhibition of yourselves!'

With only a little more grumbling, the men made their way to one of the long canteen tables, which as it turned out, was not long enough. Now it was Pike's turn to look rather put out.

'But I haven't got anywhere to sit, Uncle Arthur!' he complained, rather sulky at having missed out on his seat as the canteen lady had to get some more stew.

'Well, there are plenty of other seats available, aren't there?' Wilson sounded rather exasperated himself. An afternoon spent rushing in and out of bushes under simulated fire was not his idea of an enjoyable Saturday, and it really wasn't up to him to look after Frank as well – although he knew Mavis wouldn't see it that way.

Still sulky at the perceived refusal to help, Pike took his tray and shuffled over a couple of rows to the first available seats. He wasn't paying much attention to anyone else, but when he looked up just then was surprised, and suddenly quite pleased, to see that he was actually sitting opposite a girl. A pretty girl, with blonde hair just like Betty Grable.

Violet looked up at that moment then too. 'Hello,' she said, rather politely, but noting that he looked rather a sweet boy – not quite joined up yet, either, by the flash on his uniform. Not proper Army – not yet.

'Hello.' Pike felt quite nervous – she _was_ proper Army, so probably a couple of years older – and probably had some big Para boyfriend that wouldn't take too kindly to him chatting to her.

'Home Guard?' she asked then. 'Are you with that lot over there?'

'Oh, yeah!' He had a nice smile, Violet thought. Just young, but nice. 'We've come to go on the exercise this afternoon, 'cause Mr Mainwaring thought we should…it's Commando training, actually.' He wasn't sure where that came from, but her pencilled eyebrows raised rather attractively and convinced him to continue.

'And that's what I'm going for, next year, when I get called up…' He hoped that sounded believable.

'Really?' Violet's eyes widened. 'That's a tough lot.'

'Oh, I know, but…that's why I'm here, see. For practice. Are you working here?' The question came out suddenly, before he had time to think.

'In the CO's typing pool,' Violet smiled back. 'Nothing too exciting like you though.'

'No, well…you been here long?' _Maybe it was best she didn't ask too many questions about his supposed 'training'_.

'Not that long,' Violet replied, keeping her eyes on his as she took a drink. 'To be honest, I didn't really want to come back – this is home, you see – but it's all right.'

'Home?' Pike screwed up his nose slightly. Not many people serving did so at home.

'Yeah, I'm from just down the road, but I didn't always live there. Do you know Walmington on Sea?'

'I'm from Walmington!' Pike smiled, hoping that meant she'd stay around.

'Really? What school did you go to?'

'I was at the Grammar School!' Pike could never understand how something he was proud of was something Mr Mainwaring never seemed to be.

'Oh, I wasn't there then,' Violet continued. 'We moved away, when my Mum got a job at one of the big houses around there, but I went to Jubilee Road. Only came back a couple of years ago, then I joined up.'

'I was at Jubilee Road!' Pike nodded at the mention of his primary school, and then paused, looking at her more closely, just as she looked at him.

'Is your name Rose?' he asked, vague memories of playing with a blonde girl now and again coming to mind.

'Violet – close enough. Do I know you?'

'Maybe.' He felt shy again now. 'I think you was a bit older…' _Oh. His uncle would say he wasn't meant to mention that, not to a lady…_

'Frank.' Her own memory came to mind. 'I remember you.'

They smiled at one another.

'So, what are you doing now?' Violet asked, trying to sound casual, but actually rather interested. 'I mean, before your Commando training?'

'I work at the Bank, sort of an assistant Chief Clerk, but I'd probably be Chief Clerk if I wasn't joining up.' At this point Pike was willing to say absolutely anything to keep the pretty blonde girl looking at him like that.

'Really?' Violet wasn't convinced about the Chief Clerk bit, but there was no doubt it was a job with prospects… _more prospects than working down a mine or frying fish, that's for sure_.

'Here,' she reached into her pocket and pulled out a pen and notebook, writing something. 'If you like…maybe I could come to Walmington sometime? This is my office,' she finished, indicating the number at the bottom.

For a moment Pike could only stare at the small scrap of paper in front of him. This was a _girl's phone number –_ he'd never spoken to an actual girl on the phone before.

'Would you? What, like the Pictures or something?' He didn't quite want to believe it.

'Yeah. That'd be nice.' Their eyes met one more time, and then Violet pushed her chair back and stood up. She'd been half expecting the boy's gaze to drop just then, as her other 'assets' became more apparent, and it did.

'I better go now,' Violet felt a sudden warmth from such an obvious reaction, and her pulse kick up somewhat unexpectedly. 'Don't lose it,' she smiled, pushing the paper across the table, and noticed him blush.

Still rather dazed, Pike watched her go. She was, in that moment, the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen – at least, that wasn't thousands of miles away in Hollywood – but he didn't have their numbers – he had _hers_.

Tucking it into his pocket, Pike was in love already. _Maybe, this was the girl he was meant to marry…_

'Pike!' The sharp bark of his commanding officer brought him back to reality with a bump. 'Form up with the others, outside, now!'


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Since the beginning of the war, the women of Walmington had been equally galvanised into action, with much involvement in jumble sales, knitting various items for troops and bottling anything that could conceivably be preserved. A couple of weeks before Pike's encounter with Violet, the WVS Presiding Officer, Mrs Beckwith, opened the meeting with an unexpected proposal.

'…and following our sterling efforts last year, it would appear that this branch has come to the attention of the Ministry of Food,' Mrs Beckwith announced, referring to the ladies' prowess in jam production and preservation.

'It is also the case, as you may be aware, that several local farms are waiting on assistance at present. The Ministry expects to fill such gaps in due course with 'Land Girls', and suchlike, but for now, we are required to take their place.'

'But how many do they want?' Mrs Pike had asked, suddenly anxious. 'And how long for?'

'According to the letter I received,' Mrs Beckwith continued, 'no more than a couple of weeks. They also require that…' She paused for a moment, not sure how well this would be received. '…all members of this branch, other than those with dependent children, present themselves for duty at the farms listed below.'

'Oh, I think it'll be quite nice!' enthused Mrs Fox, on the other side of the table. 'Do you know, I used to help out on a farm when I was a girl – takes me right back!' She stopped there, guessing that the WVS Committee Meeting was probably not the best place to mention that most of her time there was spent in the hayloft with her friend's brother, but couldn't quite hide the smile all the same.

'A couple of weeks though? From when?' Mrs Pike wasn't going to let this go.

'We are required at the addresses as shown…' Mrs Beckwith indicated their names on the form, '…from the first, for an expected duration of two weeks'.

'But what about my Frank?' Mrs Pike was rather agitated now. 'He can't be left at home by himself, he's only a baby…'

'From what I hear, he wouldn't be by himself…' one of the other ladies whispered to her friend, who gave an almost imperceptible nod, and a wry smile.

Mrs Beckwith sighed. She'd expected this. 'Mrs Pike. According to the Ministry guidelines, a dependent child is under the age of sixteen. Your son is eighteen.' _And it's probably as well you learn how to cope away from him_ , she added to herself. _You'll have to soon enough. So will he._

She wasn't in the least happy about it, but shortly afterwards Mrs Pike found herself directed to help out picking potatoes with some of the other ladies. _Was there nothing this war wouldn't interfere with_ , she asked herself anxiously. It wasn't natural, leaving a young lad (and a man) in charge of a house – what would they _eat_? What if anything happened to them while she was away? _What about her Frank's chest?_ Such concerns, however, cut no ice with officialdom, and she wasn't home when her son acquired his precious piece of paper.

She didn't know anything about it, and Pike made Wilson promise not to tell her. It wasn't as though he wouldn't tell her himself, he'd explained, but not yet. When she saw how happy they were, Pike reasoned, then he'd tell her, and she'd understand, but...this was his secret, just now. It was hard to explain, but it was something so special, that he didn't want other people to know, not yet.

A couple of days after the Captain had been retrieved from a runaway barrage balloon, Pike eventually had the opportunity and the nerve to call Violet's number, and to his amazement she'd agreed to meet him again, at the Park near their old school.

It was a warm, early summer's day, and Violet had been quite hopeful when she was met at the bus stop and they'd walked to the Park together. He really did look quite sweet, and truth be told, she felt flattered by the attention.

'They used to have ice creams here, too,' Pike was trying to both walk straight and keep gazing at her, which wasn't easy. 'I wish we could get ice creams still, don't you?'

'Yeah – I like chocolate,' Violet agreed.

'And did you ever have bananas and ice cream?' Pike continued, still feeling rather dizzy at being near her. He knew he was probably talking too much – Cary Grant never seemed like the chatty type – but he had to say something.

'Umm, maybe?' Violet didn't want to admit that bananas had been quite expensive for her mother growing up – so were ice creams, for that matter.

'Well, you know what you can do?' he asked, eagerly patting the bench beside him. 'If you get bananas and ice cream, you can squish it through the gaps in your teeth!'

'Oh?' Violet wasn't sure what to say to that, particularly as Pike was looking at her so enthusiastically. Somehow that didn't seem enough, but she wasn't sure what the appropriate response was.

He realised that then, and looked down at the gravel, embarrassed, before trying again.

'And you know those railings over there?'

'Yeah?'

'Well, I was here with my Mum one day, and I pretended I got my head stuck – just there!'

'Not recently?' Violet asked with a smile, but sincerely hoped she was right.

'No…not recently….' Maybe that story wasn't as funny as it had sounded in his head.

They were quiet for a moment.

'My friend Dora just got engaged,' Violet said then, more to break the silence than anything else.

'Did she?'

Violet nodded. 'He's a pilot too. They're hoping to get married in September, before his squadron moves again.'

Again, neither was really sure what to say. She looked lovely, Pike thought, in her summer dress and boxy little hat, the fabric cut in a sharp V at the neck showing her off beautifully and the sunshine catching her hair. _Maybe she'd mentioned engagement for a reason?_

'How did they get engaged?' he asked then, trying to sound casual.

'At a Dance,' Violet explained, turning to face him, pleased to have something to talk about. 'There was this Canadian band that came, and everyone was there, and then the band stopped, and they just announced it, right there on stage!'

'Like Jack Oakey and Zazu Pitts?' Pike asked, eyes wide at the thought of film fantasy become real.

'Yeah, like that!' Violet nodded excitedly. 'I loved that bit!'

'Did you?' He glanced at her then, and noticed how blue her eyes were.

'Yeah! I prefer the historical films though, you know, in costume, and that.' She'd spent quite some time wandering around the Lynton estate growing up, when her mother was working as Lady Lynton's maid, pretending she was Elizabeth Bennett, and that someday, her own Mr Darcy (who incidentally always looked rather like Leslie Howard), would fall madly in love with her and she'd marry into enough fortune to buy a country estate of their own.

She had to admit, Pike didn't look like Leslie Howard.

They stayed a little longer, sometimes talking, and sometimes not really knowing what to say. It was a bit awkward when that happened, and Pike immediately worried that he'd done something wrong. It had seemed easier the other day – when he'd basically made most of it up.

'Well,' Violet began, as they walked back to her bus stop. 'That was nice…thank you.' She had the feeling she ought to make a bit more of an effort. He wasn't Leslie Howard, but he did look nice, and he'd been so sweet, and made her feel so pretty…She stopped and turned, looking at him expectantly. It was a quiet side street – _no-one would see…_

Pike stared back at her, unsure why she had stopped. 'Won't you miss your bus?'

'Umm…no.' She moved a little closer. 'Just…you know…wanted to say thank you. Properly.' There was a low, warm tone in her voice that hadn't been there before.

'You what?'

That wasn't the reaction she'd expected. _Most men knew when they could get a kiss – and even more thought they did!_

Rallying, Violet pushed her shoulders back slightly. That did it. The sudden tightening of the floral print across her bust drew his eye and brought the blush back to his cheeks.

Tentatively, she caught hold of Pike's hand. 'You _can_ kiss me, if you want.'

He heard the words, but they didn't make sense. Any capacity for logical thought had deserted Pike as soon as she did that thing with her shoulders, and all that was left was a combination of really, really wanting to and sheer panic. _How?_

'What? Now?' If she stood any closer he'd feel – them – and if he kissed her, they'd be right up close – like he'd spent far too much thinking about just recently.

'Yeah – if you like?' Violet took that step closer, and he couldn't resist. Recklessly ignoring the fact that he had no idea what he was doing, and unable to recall any of the numerous film sequences that he would have imagined using as reference, Pike's first kiss was quick, and rather wet, and might have knocked Violet's teeth slightly.

It didn't matter. The edges of his vision blurred and his heart was racing as a sudden heat shot through him, and he still felt dizzy and hot as she stepped back, still close.

Standing back slightly, Violet felt…confused – and her teeth hurt. It had been…wet. _Not…awful, but…not like when she was with Joe. It should have been – shouldn't it?_

She'd expected to feel it…somewhere else, and she didn't. But then again, it was his first. There was no way it was anything else, and well, practice made perfect.

She told herself that quite a few times on the journey back to camp.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Violet's 21st birthday was one that she would always remember – for different reasons. She'd spent much of the morning thinking the conversation she'd had with her sister the day before.

'I've sort of…got someone,' she admitted, as they watched Doreen's eldest playing in the Donald Duck sandpit, the younger one asleep in the pram.

'Oh?' Doreen raised her eyebrows. 'Someone on camp? Not that Brigadier, is it?' she added, with a smile, knowing full well that he was far too old to be of any interest.

'No!' Violet laughed, and then paused. 'He'll…be called up soon…he wants to be a Marine.' She thought it best not to mention how unlikely that seemed. 'He's not on camp. Someone from round here.'

Doreen looked at her more closely. She didn't seem happy though.

'What's his name?'

'Frank.'

'But weren't you with a chap called Joe?'

'Well, yeah, but…' Violet still hadn't really had a proper explanation for why they'd broken up, even though he probably had been a bit old for her, but she suspected he'd been somehow embarrassed by her. That hurt, considering she'd spent most of her childhood being looked down on. _At least Frank would never do that._

Doreen nodded, slowly. She understood.

'So, what about Frank then? Where did you two meet? Has he taken you out yet?'

Violet didn't answer immediately. 'We met on camp – he was there for some training thing, and we came here, actually. It was nice.' Something in her tone didn't match her words, and Doreen knew it.

'So what's wrong?' she asked, taking her sister's hand.

'He's really sweet,' Violet began. 'He likes me, and I…we were friends, you know? As kids?'

'Yeah?'

'Well…I don't know – I mean, when you met Clive, how did you know?' She knew she wasn't making much sense.

Doreen sighed. 'Vi, if you're not sure, don't. Believe me, don't go getting caught if you're not sure – it's hard enough if you are.'

Violet nodded. That wasn't what she meant, but her sister's words rang true. Doreen was only two years older than she was, with a little boy of three and a baby girl just coming up to her first birthday, and a husband last known to be with Monty in Tobruk. Her wedding had been somewhat – unexpected, and while their mother had come round to the idea, she probably wouldn't be keen on it happening again. Not that she expected it would – not for the same reason, anyway. That side of things wasn't something she really wanted to consider just yet, and that made her feel even more guilty and confused.

It hadn't been like that when she met Joe. She'd fallen for his cocky confidence, and charm, and had imagined the sophisticated London life they could have together, and well, things had progressed rather quickly…not that she regretted it. She did regret how she'd been treated afterwards.

'He's a nice boy,' she said then. 'I think he loves me.'

'Do you love him, though?' Doreen asked, picking up the baby as she cried. 'That's the question.'

Violet couldn't really answer that. The most accurate answer would probably be that she wanted to.

'Yeah, 'course I do. We're going out for my birthday, tomorrow.'

None of that, however, seemed to matter later. Still mulling over her dilemma, Violet pushed open the door to the hut she shared with Dora, Beryl and the girls, and as she did so, heard the most awful sound. It wasn't quite a cry, but something else, something hopeless and destroyed, and it was Dora.

Rushing over, Violet joined Beryl, who held an inconsolable Dora in her arms.

'Dora! What's wrong?'

'Vi…' Beryl began, 'Michael's gone.'

'What?' Violet collapsed on the narrow bed on the other side of Dora.

'They said it was over Bremen. Shot down.' Beryl managed, still in shock herself. 'Dora didn't know – the boss didn't know. Only found out from one of his mates, that made it back.'

Violet couldn't speak. What could she say? There was nothing, nothing, that would bring back the young man Dora had fallen for, the one she'd wore a brass curtain ring for at the hotel in Brighton a couple of months back, and sworn blind her name was Mrs Dora Banner, instead of Dora Green. The one she'd driven some of the girls to distraction about, with her wedding plans, wonderfully romantic proposal and innumerable photographs, of him, of them…none of that mattered any more.

And no-one had even officially told her. A fiancée wasn't a wife. And what about the little bungalow they'd been to look at – the home she'd dreamt of? That wouldn't – couldn't – happen now. Not just on her wage. Not that she'd probably want to be there now, anyway.

No widow's pension, either. _At least if they'd been married…_

Strangely, the shock didn't hit Violet until later.

'Happy Birthday!' Pike's enthusiasm almost knocked Violet off her feet, as he eagerly pushed a present under her nose.

'There's a card too! I made it!' he continued, eyes shining with adoration. 'Open it!'

The simple, innocent kindness was too much for Violet's shattered nerves, and – rather embarrassingly – she burst into tears in the cinema queue. It hadn't felt right going anyway, and now he was going to be so _nice_?

'Violet?' She could hear the panic in his voice. Not many men knew how to deal with a crying woman, and it appeared he was no exception.

'Violet? What's wrong?' This wasn't what Pike had expected. He'd imagined…well, a lot of things, on seeing her again, but this wasn't one of them.

'Come on,' Violet managed, taking his hand and dragging him out the queue. At least they could be somewhere else, where people wouldn't see.

'Here, look, we can sit down, if you want?' Pike indicated some benches down by the seafront, looking out at the calm sea, warm under the setting sun.

'What's wrong?' he repeated anxiously. _She was going to break up with him, he knew she would…no-one that wonderful could be with him…_

'Sorry,' Violet apologised automatically, unnecessarily, and turned to him, resting her head against his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his neck, needing, in that moment, to be held close by someone who loved her.

Pike was speechless – the sensation of his beautiful… _girlfriend_ …holding him tightly was a dream come true, and she seemed lost and vulnerable in a way he'd never seen – well, any girl, really. He wasn't sure what to say, but promised to look after her, always, if she'd have him.

'What happened?' That didn't seem like enough, and he wasn't sure he wanted her to move just yet.

Violet did sit up slightly, and took a few deep breaths. 'Sorry,' she said again. 'Just, you know my friend, Dora? The one who got engaged?'

'Yeah?' He remembered she'd mentioned engagement.

'Her fiancé's dead. He was shot down over Germany. She only found out today.'

'Oh.' That was honestly more than Pike knew how to deal with. There had only been a few moments, so far, when the war had threatened him or anyone close to him, and he'd basically tried to forget about them, or brag about them, one or the other. It seemed to work so far.

'Well… you want to go home?' he asked, uncertainly.

'No.' Violet didn't want to go home, and cry on her own.

'We'll be all right, won't we?' she asked then, wrapping herself close again.

'Yeah. Course we will – you know, there was this bomb, on the bank a while back – we were all right!' She really did feel lovely in his arms.

Slowly, reluctantly, they drew back from one another just then, as a couple of people walked by.

'Here – you didn't open your present!' Pike said then, reminding her.

'Oh…yeah.' She'd forgotten, and tore at the flimsy paper.

'Oh, thank you!' Violet exclaimed then, exposing a small bottle of (probably very expensive) Californian Poppy, which couldn't have been easy to come by.

'It's lovely – thank you,' she gave him a watery smile. Sitting like that, leaning up against him, was a bit like that time when they were kids, Pike thought then, and she was upset. He'd looked after her then, and made her happy again…he could do that now, couldn't he?

'You didn't open the card,' he added, a little shyly.

Grateful for his kindness, Violet gently took the card, and pulled it out. Looking at it, it was clear that Pike's artistic abilities hadn't progressed much beyond Jubilee Road, but it was adorable, all the same.

'To dearest Violet…' she read, the tears close again. '…on your 21st birthday. I love you.'

'Really?' Violet's eyes looked as blue as the darkening waves on the shore. 'You _love_ me?'

For a moment, Pike didn't quite meet her gaze. 'Yes,' he admitted, still shy, but surprisingly steady. 'You're beautiful, I can't stop thinking about you, not from when I wake up to when I go to sleep…I love you…you're just like Betty Grable!'

Violet's fingers traced the pattern on her card. He was lovely – it didn't really matter that he was so young, did it? And quite a nice looking boy…with a decent job to stand him in good stead after the war…it could be far worse…

'I…' She paused. She wasn't sure, not really, but just now, dearly wanted to be. 'This is so lovely…I think…I do, too…'

'Me?' The question was breathless, anxious.

'Yeah…'

'Marry me?' Pike asked it in a rush, clumsily taking her hands in his and pulling her close. It didn't matter what anyone else thought, or if they didn't understand – they'd never been in love, not really, not like this…

'What?' Violet wasn't sure she'd heard right.

'Marry me.' He suddenly sounded far more grown up than she'd expected – a tight, tense statement that meant exactly what he said.

'But, I…' Images of Dora crying over her latest photos with Michael came to mind. Who knew what could happen, these days? Dora was nineteen years old – Frank soon would be. She'd been getting married…it wouldn't be long before he was called up too…what if he didn't come back? What if she was left with nothing, like Dora, when she had a chance to be settled… _secure_?

'I…' Violet started again.

'I can look after you!' His voice was young, earnest. 'I will, if you'll…if you'll have me?'

In years to come, Violet hated herself for asking, but she couldn't help it.

'But – what about your job? When you come back? Will they let you have it back?'

'Yeah, course they will!' Pike didn't honestly know or care at this point. 'And – there's promotion schemes, and everything!'

 _Promotion…_

'Do you think…they'd take you? After, I mean?' If he noticed the slightly thoughtful, considering tone in her voice, Pike didn't show it.

'Yeah…course they would. I'll look after you,' he promised, innocent and sincere.

Violet looked him in the eyes then, her gaze a strange mixture of contemplation and affection.

'Yes.' Her reply was serious, considered. 'Yes, I will.'


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The early morning sun was shining in thin slivers through the blackouts. It had been a week now, since Violet had agreed to marry him, and Pike had been able to think of nothing else. He didn't have to get up yet, and was already wide awake, daydreaming about the girl that would soon be his, _forever_. If that wasn't exciting enough, there was even going to be a Dance tonight – he'd announce their engagement just like in that film – Violet liked it too, didn't she? And his Mum – best bit of the whole film, she'd said. It was her last day on the farm, and she'd be back for the Dance – she'd be so pleased, when she saw how happy they were, everyone would, and they'd stop trying to tell him otherwise, but they just didn't understand.

They'd been busy setting everything up for the Dance the day before, and he'd had a rather awkward conversation with his Uncle Arthur, who'd tried to put him off the whole idea, and then everyone else had – but he wasn't a kid. No-one seemed to understand that, or that he was actually, genuinely in love, and that she'd said yes. It would be nice, too, for Violet to have a happy memory of that film again, as she'd been pretty upset about her friend. Once she heard how much he loved her, and the wedding preparations started, she'd be happier still, he knew she would. And his Mum had been married at 19, so why wouldn't she understand him getting married at the same age?

Pike turned over then, pulling the sheets up to him and pretending, once again, that he was back with Violet – she was so beautiful. If she'd been an usherette, instead of working in Woolworth's, she'd probably have looked something like Lana Turner in _Ziegfield Girl_ , which, incidentally, his mother hadn't been too keen on him seeing…and probably with good reason, as Lana Turner was lovely…but not as nice as his Violet. He'd missed having his mother around, especially at meal times, or when he needed something washed, or ironed…and there was one shirt that would never be the same again after he'd made his first attempt at flattening it…but some things were better. Like being allowed to stay in bed and not having anyone walk in and decide when he was going to get up…his Uncle certainly wasn't bothered, and, right now, _that was a very good thing…_

That evening, Violet looked at herself in the mirror. This was her best dress, and she'd got Doreen to do her hair. Presumably, this would be when she met Frank's family…she wondered if he'd told them yet, that they were engaged? She wasn't quite ready to tell hers yet, and knew what they'd think, a quick engagement like this. The rest of the town probably would, too, and she didn't really know how she felt about that.

Opening a drawer just then, she pulled out her birthday card. No-one had ever taken the trouble to make her anything, not like this, not since she was a kid. It was so sweet… _it would be all right, wouldn't it?_ Violet had been asking herself the same question all week, but how did anyone know? They didn't, not really, and there were couples out there that looked far more unlikely, she thought, and stood up abruptly. Time to go. She put her last couple of cigarettes in her handbag, and some of that American gum that was left over from what Joe gave her, and settled down to wait, resolved. This would work – _it needed to_ , she added, and tried to ignore the accompanying twinge of guilt that came with it.

On his way to Violet's house, Pike felt more overexcited than ever, even more so considering that as far as his mother was concerned, he'd just popped out for the new Hotspur and his sweet ration. He hadn't told her about Violet yet – for one thing, she'd been far too busy going through the house picking up various bits of dirty laundry neither he or Wilson had got around to doing anything about just yet, and making their first proper dinner in weeks, and he knew better than to interrupt her when she was in one of 'cleaning moods'. It didn't really matter though, not really. She'd be so pleased – he couldn't wait.

The sight of Violet, done up in her nice dress, was almost too much to bear, and Pike hoped that the slightly older girl there, who had been detailed to watch over this boy that was coming to collect Violet and wait up appropriately in their mother's absence that evening, didn't notice how much he stared at her or guess how much time he'd spent thinking about her.

'Violet!' Doreen called, baby Carol at her shoulder, 'Frank's here!' Doreen turned to him then, rather fiercer, it seemed, than her sister, and added:

'And we best not hear about any unnecessariness when Vi gets back…' She still didn't know quite why Violet wasn't sure, or why her feelings seemed to change with the weather as regards this boy, but he'd better not try anything on, if that was why. That Joe chap had taken a few liberties, she knew that much, and while Violet hadn't minded too much, after some initial hesitation, she didn't like to think of her sister potentially being left high and dry by anyone else.

'Umm…no, Miss Gib..?'

'Mrs,' Doreen snapped. 'Mrs Drury.' She nodded at Carol. _Oh. Yeah…not Miss._

Violet appeared just then, probably for the best.

'Well,' Doreen nodded at them. 'I'll leave you to it. Vi, Mum said you've to be home by eleven.' This was directed more at Pike than Violet, and was actually the sort of maternal instruction he was quite used to, although Doreen didn't know that and his mother would probably have insisted on earlier than that, but that didn't matter either. When they came back, everyone would know they were engaged… _actually, shouldn't her mother and sister know that already?_

But then again, maybe she wanted to keep it as a surprise, just like he did, Pike explained to himself. _Yes. That was it_.

'You look lovely,' he said, eagerly reaching to take her hand, and deeply, almost painfully aware of the curves under her dress and skirt swishing about her legs.

'Thank you,' Violet replied, with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. He looked nice too, but somehow it wasn't affecting her like her appearance seemed to be affecting him, and that worried her. This wasn't the time to think on that though. She have a couple of dances, a couple of drinks, and then they'd tell everyone and it would be done – settled.

'We haven't actually got to go in yet,' Pike told her, when they reached the Church Hall, hand still clasped tightly in hers.

'Oh?' Violet was pretty sure she knew what this meant. Well, as she'd said before, practice made perfect, and if he was trying to practice, that had to be a good thing, didn't it?

'So…what shall we do?' she asked, letting her voice drop slightly and in spite of her other misgivings, felt a renewed spark of interest when she saw him blush.

'Come here, round the back – we've got this…it's like a tank!' Pike replied then, recovering himself.

Slightly bemused – and by now, knowing him well enough to realise that it might genuinely just be a 'tank' that she was being taken to see rather than her apparent fiancé trying anything else, Violet followed him.

'There, look!' Pike indicated Jones' van. 'There's holes there, and in the roof, so we can shoot at the Germans if they land, and it's got marble slabs in the bottom in case we go over mines or something, well, sometimes, if they're not needed in the shop, and…'

She looked amazing, and Pike couldn't finish his explanation before bravado took over and he pulled her into another clumsy kiss. He wasn't sure what to with his hands, as that same bravado brought them closer to a more _dangerous_ area of Violet than he dared investigate before, and suddenly remembered something he'd overheard about kissing when some of the others thought he was asleep on duty in the Harris Orphans' Holiday Home Hut.

He wanted to. Emotion and hormones were to blame entirely, and to her considerable surprise, Violet found her lips parted wider, and then something – slimy – touching her tongue.

'No!' Taken aback, more at the shock that he'd tried it than what had actually happened, Violet rapidly disentangled herself. _No – not that! Not yet – not now!_

'Sorry.' Pike stared down at a cigarette end on the ground, embarrassed. Of course he shouldn't have done that. That sort of thing might be all right for one of Joe's girls, but not one like her. He should have known that…would that be classed as unnecessary?

'It's all right.' Violet managed, staring down at her shoes herself. 'Just a bit…sort of…slimy, when you don't expect it,' she qualified hurriedly, feeling rather guilty about making him upset.

'Oh.' Pike still looked disappointed. 'I won't do it again, Violet, I promise!' he added then, in a rush.

'It's all right,' Violet repeated. 'Here, look, I think they've started. I can hear some music.'

'Yeah. Yeah, they have.' He smiled at her again, and Violet briefly considered if she'd been wrong to stop him, before admitting that no, actually she hadn't.

'Shall we go in, then?' she asked, surreptitiously reaching for some of that gum to chew on instead.

His smile widened in relief and pride, and she took his arm, like a good fiancée should.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 _Where was he?_ Mavis Pike was a woman on the edge. Not only had she been separated from her baby boy for three weeks on that godforsaken farm, with him apparently surviving on fish and chips and whatever the British Restaurant could provide, now he'd gone out and _not come back_. Arthur had tried to take her mind off it, and under different circumstances, it would have been nice, to be taken out for a change, to enjoy a dance and a nice drink together, but he couldn't. What about those Fifth Columnists in the papers? For all they knew, her Frank could have been captured, and even now on his way to some prison camp – she was sure she'd read such things had happened in France. And what if the siren went? She would never be able to stop the panic that came every time Frank and Arthur were out in raids – never mind that Walmington was relatively safe. Bombs still fell, and she wouldn't be happy until they were back where they belonged.

Or so she thought.

'Arthur! Who's that just come in with Frank?' she demanded, eyes wide in shock at the sight of her son with some blonde girl on his arm. The other ladies on the farm had occasionally teased her that she'd come home to evidence of girls and wild parties leaving a young lad like Frank on his own, and she'd blithely disregarded any possibility of such a thing. Her Frank didn't know any girls, she was sure of it – he was far too young for all that, she'd told herself, but there was still that nagging fear at the back of her mind – _what if it was true?_

Now, it seemed, it was. And he hadn't told her. One line, in his letter, that would have been at least _something_ – one line in Arthur's letter, come to that.

'Oh, don't worry about that, Mavis. We've got the wine, the music, and each other.'

'Arthur! I've having none of that! You wait 'til you're asked!' she snapped then, far too anxious to appreciate any attempted seduction, but almost as equally surprised when she was basically ignored and swept into Wilson's arms. _What had got into him?_

Mavis's feet were aching by the time she was actually allowed to have a rest, and she'd glanced over at that girl whenever she could. One glimpse of the way Frank was looking at her was enough – but she needed watching. Who knew what she'd a mind to get up to? _Or_ , whispered the little voice inside that she was trying to ignore, _he did?_ She knew that look in a man's eyes, and it was a shock to see it on him. She watched her all through Jones' Cabaret, slightly comforted, in a funny sort of way, when she noticed the girl didn't seem to be paying much attention. _Maybe nothing would come of it after all…_

Violet hardly heard the Cabaret. She was keeping her mind on the nice house they'd be able to afford once they were married, or had been for a couple of years, the decent clothes and shoes, basically a lifestyle to keep her from all the scrimping and saving her mother had been put through. On some level, she knew Frank was staring at her, somewhere down by her neckline if she was any judge, but she wasn't going to think of that just now, and tried to pay attention to the elderly gent on stage. _Wasn't he the Butcher in the High Street? And that was Joe…what was he doing here?_

Pike's gaze was indeed, fixed on the lacy black neckline of Violet's dress. She tended to wear a blouse, when he imagined her – something that could be unbuttoned, something sort of – clingy – but he'd never seen so much of a girl's neck before…only a little bit further, and you could actually see…

He almost didn't notice when Jones finished, but when he did, took his chance.

'Ladies and Gentlemen,' Pike began, smoothing his hair back nervously. 'I'd like to make a very important announcement, since you're all gathered here tonight and we're all having such a good time, I'd like to introduce you to…'

Violet felt herself being brought up on stage. She couldn't really remember afterwards, exactly what was said, but remembered the sense of shock around the room, and an anguished cry from Frank's mother. Things all happened rather fast, after that, as a kaleidoscope of various thoughts flashed through her mind, the first being the sudden realisation that her fiancé _hadn't even told his mother about her_.

 _How could he not have told her? If no-one else?_ In that instant, Violet conveniently forgot that she hadn't mentioned it to hers either, and turned to Pike in disbelief. Well, she wasn't having that. One man had been ashamed of her and not had the nerve to tell her to her face – she wasn't letting another one get away with it. What, had he expected she'd accept a nice 'engagement', persuade her into what he wanted and then be gone without so much as a by-your-leave?

'No!' Violet said then, quite loudly. It needed to be, what with all the commotion in the Hall.

'What?' Pike's attention had been diverted by his mother falling into a faint in his Uncle's arms.

'No – I can't – I'm going home!' Violet managed, stumbling down the steps.

'What? Why?' Panic rose in his voice, not helped by the fact that the hall appeared to have descended into chaos with his mother, Maids of Honour suddenly being stuffed down the Verger's wife's dress and Frazer brandishing an altar cannon.

Violet shook her head, and blindly made for the door. Pike glanced back at his mother, registered that she was being taken care of, and chased after Violet.

'Where're you going?' he asked, anxiously, having caught up with her just outside.

'Home!' Violet had to lean on the wall to catch her breath.

'Why? And, well…you can't go home on your own, it's not right – not right for a girl to be out on her own this time of night…'

The simple concern took the wind out of Violet's sails somewhat. He was a nice boy. He wasn't ashamed of her, he wouldn't have tried anything, and that was why she couldn't pretend any more, why she couldn't keep hoping for something that wasn't there.

'All right. Will you come with me?'

'Course I will.' Pike reached down to take her hand.

'No.' Violet pulled it away. 'I can't, Frank. I'm sorry.'

'What?' He stopped.

In the warm twilight of the summer's evening, Violet's eyes looked very dark. She fixed them on his, and paused before she continued.

'I can't marry you.'

'Why?' It sounded as though his world was crashing around him. It probably felt like it was.

'Because…well…' Violet wasn't sure how to say this without being too hurtful. 'You know…are there girls at the Pictures you like?'

Pike hesitated. 'Umm…no?' he lied.

'Yes, there are.' Violet didn't believe him for a minute. 'Well, it's sort of like…I like Leslie Howard, but…that's not the same as actually getting married to him.'

'Well, no…'

'So…' They'd stopped now, on a bench in the High Street, staring at the darkened shops. 'It's not real, but you like to think it is?'

This was a hard conversation to keep track of, especially with a girl. 'Yeah?'

'Well…I thought it was real. With you. I wanted it to be.'

'It is!' Just now, as far as Pike was concerned, it was all getting worryingly real in a way he hadn't expected. He wasn't used to there being consequences, not lasting, potentially serious ones, and had certainly never been called upon to really try to understand such things.

'No,' Violet sighed. 'It's not. You were nice to me, like when we were kids, and it was lovely, but…'

'I don't love you.'

There. She'd said it. It didn't sound any less crushing out loud.

Silence.

'You said you did.'

'I thought I did. I wanted to.'

'I love _you_!' He said it as if saying it with enough feeling would change her mind, not unlike a child trying to convince someone that they really _should_ stay up late…

Violet was quiet for a moment.

'No.' This wasn't going to be easy to say either. 'You don't. Not really.'

'I do!' Pike sounded obstinate.

'No. You…don't really want me, just…someone.' She didn't blame him for feeling confused right now.

'A girl – to know what it's like,' she finished, somewhat embarrassed.

'I don't.' The response was quick, and evasive, and patently untrue.

'And…' Taking the view that she was down the rabbit hole now, Violet continued. '…well, it should be good, and…if it's not the right one, it's not, or it doesn't last.'

Pike glanced at her, curious and a little afraid. Was she talking about – _that_? Did she _know_?

'And, well, you should have the right one too. Everyone should. Doesn't always happen, but…' she trailed off, the first stars catching her eye.

They were quiet, for the rest of the short walk back, lost in their own thoughts.

'She is out there, though,' Violet said in parting, her hand on the gate. 'But she's not me.'

'Yeah, well…' The need to muster some sort of honour presented itself. 'Maybe…maybe it's best I don't get married yet, 'cause…I might meet someone after I join up, an' stuff…being a Marine, an' that…'

Violet smiled sadly. _Boys…they all had to have the last word_.

'Yeah. Maybe it is.' She pushed the gate, and was gone.

There was so much – too much – to think about on his own journey home. Real girls certainly weren't like they were in the Pictures…and it never looked like it hurt that much, either, when they were pining, for someone away fighting, usually _. Only one thing for it – try to forget it, like the bomb on the Bank – try to forget it, and no-one will know._

As long as no-one else could tell he was upset, Pike's reasoning ran, he wouldn't be. He'd _decided, yeah, that was it, decided_ not to get married after all…and he really ought to go home now and see if his Mum was all right.


End file.
